


Where Words May Fail

by bealovelylady



Series: UshiHina Mini (And Not So Mini) Fics [13]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Intersex, Lighthouses, M/M, Sirens, mermaid hinata
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:21:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22933996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bealovelylady/pseuds/bealovelylady
Summary: The sea was quiet, waves lapping softly against the craggy rocks far below from where Ushijima stood. Behind him stood a tall lighthouse, his home for the past 15 years. The light rotated above him and swept over the dark ocean, as Ushijima hugged his knitted sweater around his bulky frame and clutched at the mug filled with soup he’d made a few days ago and was still eating off of. He loved the salty night air, loved standing just at the edge of the cliff his lighthouse sat on and staring into the wide and open nothingness that was the ocean. It scared him; it reminded him why he did his job. Ushijima did not love the ocean, but he loved his tall tower on the cliff, his beacon of hope and life to those out on the sea. He sighed wearily into the cool air and listened with eyes closed, the wind biting at his cheeks.Slowly the wind began to shift, carrying with it a sound that only the ocean could make, and Wakatoshi turned on his heels and headed back inside. His parents had raised him to be deeply superstitious of the open water, and life had thought him they hadn’t been incorrect in doing so.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Series: UshiHina Mini (And Not So Mini) Fics [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1073484
Comments: 28
Kudos: 191





	Where Words May Fail

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fflowerpower94](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fflowerpower94/gifts).



> Thank you again to fflowerpower94 for a wonderful fic idea 💓💗
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

The sea was quiet, waves lapping softly against the craggy rocks far below from where Ushijima stood. Behind him stood a tall lighthouse, his home for the past 15 years. The light rotated above him and swept over the dark ocean, as Ushijima hugged his knitted sweater around his bulky frame and clutched at the mug filled with soup he’d made a few days ago and was still eating off of. He loved the salty night air, loved standing just at the edge of the cliff his lighthouse sat on and staring into the wide and open nothingness that was the ocean. It scared him; it reminded him why he did his job. Ushijima did not love the ocean, but he loved his tall tower on the cliff, his beacon of hope and life to those out on the sea. He sighed wearily into the cool air and listened with eyes closed, the wind biting at his cheeks. 

Slowly the wind began to shift, carrying with it a sound that only the ocean could make, and Wakatoshi turned on his heels and headed back inside. His parents had raised him to be deeply superstitious of the open water, and life had thought him they hadn’t been incorrect in doing so. 

Wakatoshi moved quietly around inside the upper part of the lighthouse, his living quarters. He had a small kitchen, a big steel tub beside his sink where he bathed and washed his clothes. There was a large bed, the wall behind it covered in old photos of the men and families who had lived here before, scenic shots of the lighthouse and the cliff it sat on, photos from ships passing by and drawings of ships passing by. The bed was covered in blankets that were so faded and comfortable, filled with memories galore. Some, like his sweater, had been hand-knitted by his mother or grandmother years ago; others were just things passed down in his family. Beside his bed was the guardrail, and beyond that, the stairs leading up and down, curling around the inner wall of the tall lighthouse. Below Wakatoshi was a living area, with an old TV and couch, a desk marked with ink stains, and a crafting bench for when he felt like whittling some driftwood. Most of the furniture inside the lighthouse, in fact, was made by either him or his father, and had so far stood the test of time. The whole place smelled of wood and salt, and whatever he was cooking for dinner in his large pot. In a small room below was a toilet and sink, one mirror above it, the only one in the whole place, aside from the ones at the top for the lights. Wakatoshi rubbed at his scruffy face and wondered if it was time to shave again soon; it was an arduous task, considering how old the mirror was. He was lucky he could see where his razor blade went at all, though it was more feel than sight by now. 

All in all, Wakatoshi lived a good life, solitary as he liked it. His only contact with people was the one day every two weeks he went down to the local town market to get food and anything else he needed. It wasn’t that he couldn’t interact with people, it was just that he didn’t see the purpose in it at all. He had always preferred to be alone, claiming only one friend throughout his whole life, and even that relationship being somewhat begrudgingly acknowledged. Wakatoshi was a loner, a man who preferred wood working and silence to the hustle and bustle of even a small town. This was why being a lighthouse keeper suited him; it was why he would live and die in this home. 

Wakatoshi cleaned his few dishes and prepared himself for bed, which really didn’t include much more than brushing his teeth. He’d shave tomorrow, he murmured to himself. Tonight he felt tired, the sea wearing down on him again. He knew he might dream of bitter memories, but he’d come to accept these things as they came every once in a while whether he wished them to or not. He sank down under his many old blankets and inhaled the scents of memories. The wind whistled around his circular home, and he was soon asleep, the light above him circling, endlessly, forever. 

In the morning, Wakatoshi shaved his face slowly and in the afternoon, he went to town for his bi-weekly grocery trip. 

x

Ushijima pulled the hood of his jacket over his wind-blown hair and huddled against the cold wind that blew into town from the sea. If everyone quieted down, he was sure the waves could be heard from here. He carried an old canvas bag, the one he always used to carry his groceries home, and he bobbed and weaved through the crowd with amazing grace for being such a big guy. No one really greeted him, aside from a few booth vendors calling out to get his attention for their stock, and Wakatoshi was very glad for it. He kept his head down, his mouth shut, only speaking to order what he needed. Most people probably didn’t even know he was the lighthouse keeper above their town since he rarely ventured out at all. He picked through a basket of red potatoes, tuning out everything around him. 

Something jostled him, a body bumping into him from behind, and a bright face apologized with a laugh when Wakatoshi turned around with a scowl. “Sorry!” yelped the young man, probably around Wakatoshi’s age, but it was hard to tell between their two starkly-differing personalities. Wakatoshi silently turned back to his potato hunt, but now he was listening and tuned in to the voices around him. He huffed quietly, deciding it would be more work to ignore everything now, and so he let the voices he heard slip over his ears. 

A sharp woman’s voice caught his attention as he moved next to a basket of squashes, and he glanced up at her sudden voice. 

“‘Ave ya hea’d?” she crooned in that deep drawl that everyone here had. Wakatoshi was perhaps the only person who’d been saved. Another woman clucked out a response, and like two hens, they huddled together and began loudly exchanging stories.

“There’s’a ship jus’ off shore in that lil’ cove, it’s been sittin’ there for a week!”

“Still ‘ere?” cried the other hen back, eyes wide and shocked. The first leaned in closer and nodded enthusiastically. 

“My man’s says it’s the mermaids.”

A beat, then, “What’s that mean?”

The lady took a deep breath, everyone here always one for the dramatic, and she leaned in again, her voice finally slightly quieter. “Well, the ship’s still ‘ere ‘cause it’s empty, I reckon. The mermaids lured off all them mens on board, me thinks.”

The other lady gasped in horror, and from the back of the shop, a man’s voice yelled at them to shut their traps. Wakatoshi’s lip quirked up at that. He gathered what he needed and moved on to lastly buy his meat. Stories like that were so common, they were more readily available than a decent steak. The town folks, after all, had nothing better to do with their time than squabble about mystical creatures from the deep, though Wakatoshi wasn’t one to dismiss their existence either. 

He quietly turned out of town and made his way back to his home, blessed by peace that let his mind shut off again, but today his eyes kept wandering towards the sea shore, looking out over it. It was easier to see it from the cliff where his lighthouse sat, but still he looked out into the blue beyond from the road. His legs moved mindlessly, and when he blinked again, he found himself standing at the edge of a giant inlet, tall, rocky cliffs on the left that eventually melted into the cliffs he knew so well, his lighthouse above him and far off on the left side, and to his right, scattered rocks that slowly disappeared as the water before him bled into the wide open sea. He’d been here a few times as a kid, but his parents had scolded him when they’d found out he came here, and he’d never been back again, a slave to superstition. 

Mermaid’s Cove, they called this little bay off the sea, and for good reason to the legend-loving town folks. There were so many stories, reports of voices singing and lights in the water, children disappearing when last seen here, and abandoned ships. Wakatoshi’s eyes scanned ahead, over the horizon before him, careful not to touch any rock that was even wet lest his soul be claimed. He wanted to dismiss it all as old wives’ tales, but his upbringing kept his liberties in check, and so he kept away from the water and even what the water had touched. 

The sea was fairly calm on this day, the water lapping quietly, and Wakatoshi could find it almost peaceful if it wasn’t for the eerie sight before him. The ship sat large and so quiet that it almost seemed a mirage at first, but no, it was there, a black mess dotted in the middle of blue water. Its anchor was down, sea life probably already growing on it if it had sat as long as the women claimed. The ship itself was so dark and quiet that it felt like staring into a black hole. It was too far out to be disembarked, and yet there was no life on board, so how did it get there? Wakatoshi stared at it for a long time, before quietly dismissing it as none of his business, turning back to the main path up to his lighthouse, mermaids and ships already forgotten. 

x

It was pouring heavily, and usually this would keep Wakatoshi inside, but it had been pouring for days now, and he was running out of wood to whittle. He stared out the window of his house, mindlessly watching rain fall and fall until he grew so bored, he agitated himself. He stood and tugged on another cardigan over his sweater, a rain jacket and boots over the rest. Ushijima was a grown man, but he hated getting wet, and even worse, being cold, two things associated deeply with the sea. He pulled on his father’s old fisherman’s hat and trudged down to his front door, which he stared at for a moment. As it always did, a little water leaked in under the gap in the door, and the rocky floor was slippery. He sighed, wondering if he really wanted to traverse outside, but what else was there to do? He hadn’t thought to buy any new books or sketching paper in town last week, foolishly, mind occupied with that silly story the two women had shared. He yanked the door open angrily and stomped outside, head down, fists clenched in his pockets. He walked to the edge of the cliff and stared out over the view before him, but the sea was gray and the sky was too, and everything melted into one big blob, so there was nothing for him to see here. He sighed wearily and stepped back again, cautiously but expertly making his way back to the path down from his home, walking with heavy, booted feet down, down. He wondered if the little supply shop would be open, where he got his papers, pencils, and books. The old man who ran it was curmudgeonly and hated the rain perhaps even more than Ushijima did, and so there was no telling when the store would be open at all. He wondered if he wanted to trek that far to see. He shook his head, frowning at the dirt ground beneath his feet. Some days, everyone and everything annoyed him. 

His feet carried him where his mind did not want to go, but by the time he was staring out over the gray water in the cove named after its supposed inhabitants, he had accepted it. Here too, everything was gray, the sea melting into one with the gloomy sky, the wet of the air dripping continuously down into the wet of the ocean. And there, almost artistically drawn, sat the ship, lonely, cold, forgotten for all Ushijima could tell. He watched it for a long time, but it only bobbed softly with the waves, no sound, no movement on board at all, and he was puzzled. He stood there until the cold began to eat into his bones, and then he turned unceremoniously and walked back up to the lighthouse, too focused on the ship to have ever seen the shadows just beneath the water, watching him. 

x

When Wakatoshi woke up the next morning again to rain outside, he was rightfully pissed off. He lay staring at the ceiling, at the wall beside him, and his fingers itched. He slowly pulled himself out of bed, into another sweater and jeans, to make himself a breakfast of eggs and some grilled fish from the night before. He ate it with dark shadows over his face, lips pulled down into a deep frown, frustrations brewing as the rain continued to fall. His fingers ached to draw, and in his mind, an image was stuck. He dragged his feet getting ready, going to the bathroom, drinking his coffee, brushing his teeth and washing his face. He combed his hair roughly before even that annoyed him, slapping on a knitted beanie instead. Slowly he bundled up, begrudgingly so even as he knew he wouldn’t be sane if he spent another moment inside, waiting for the rain to stop. He gathered a small notebook that had a few blank pages left and his small tin of charcoal pencils, stuffing them into his pockets. He thumped down the round staircase and smacked his foot down against the rocky first floor. The sound was wet, and Wakatoshi groaned. The lighthouse had been designed specifically like this, but the water on the floor annoyed the man to no end, as it reminded him of the wet outside. He stared at the small puddle of water as it sat by the door, frowning at it like it caused him physical distress. He snatched up the large umbrella he kept by the front entrance and yanked the door open, slamming it shut again a moment later, irritated enough to show it on his face. 

Wakatoshi was out of breath this time when he got to the inlet, having walked there way too fast for no good reason at all, except the urge in his fingers to draw, draw, draw that damn ship that was stuck in his mind. He looked out over the water again, and there it was, as serene as he’d recalled it, looking as gloomy and yet beautiful as it had for nearly two weeks now. Wakatoshi laid the umbrella against his shoulder and listened to the hollow sounds of rain thunking against the top of it. His ears tuned slowly to the sound of the water before him, the soft lapping of the sea at rounded rocks, the sea singing its usual song, repetitive but relaxing. Slowly, Wakatoshi crouched down to a deep squat, curling his large body up like a pretzel, flexible despite his giant frame. He pulled out his notebook and pencil case and let the handle of the umbrella cradle inside his lap, the metal rod of it leaning against his shoulder. It stayed put since the breeze was very light, and the rain weighted it down. Using his knees as a table and his lap as the place to hold his case, Wakatoshi began to sketch out the cove before him, most of it from memory. Though he rarely visited, it was one of the few places that had always stayed engrained in his mind, reason for it unknown. He let the sound of the rain become the backdrop for the scratching of his pencil over rough paper, slowly becoming so absorbed in his task that everything else was tuned out except for that. 

The next time he looked up again to get another look at what he was drawing, he was pulled out of his concentration by dark shadows that had not been there before. His eyes shifted slowly, scanning the water at the edges of the bay. The gray faded into something more murky, dark blobs of ink that seemed to move independently of the rest of the water, and Wakatoshi watched it cautiously. His eyes would drift back to the ship, back again to the shadows at the edge of the water, trying to determine any movement aside from what he’d seen earlier, but he convinced himself it was just seaweed or fish. Slowly, he unclenched his fist around his pencil and began sketching again, his little bubble once more filling with the soothing sound of pencil on paper and the rain on his umbrella. 

He felt it before he saw it, like scrutiny, and he froze, hand stilling as he tried to focus in on the feeling without looking up. Something that was cold, not from the rain or the air, but from dread, began to crawl its way up Wakatoshi’s spine, and he went very, very quiet. Aside from the rain, the rest of the world around him was quiet too, too quiet. Instead of there being stillness, it felt more like a lack of sound, and Wakatoshi’s toes began to curl inside his boots. He sat absolutely still, but slowly he lifted his head and looked out over the water before him. 

It was eerily calm, too quiet again, even the water unmoving. The ship sat lonely and dark, but even that lost interest to the dark shadows at the edge of the water. 

They had moved. Wakatoshi knew it; he hadn’t lived by the sea all of his life to not know that those shadows were not fish, or seaweed. No, pods of fish and bundles of seaweed did not _move_ like this. They had come closer, but most were still a safe distance away, Wakatoshi far enough from the water’s edge to know nothing could touch him. Still, his eyes shifted forward, heart rate spiking. While most were still far enough away, there was one spot that was disconcertingly close. It sat right in front of him, right in the line of sight of the ship, and it bobbed and weaved softly beneath the surface of still water. That alone told Wakatoshi enough. Slowly, still in a squat, he shuffled his boots back over wet rocks, backing away. The shadow slowly swayed closer, still about twenty five feet from the water’s edge but too close for the lighthouse keeper’s comfort. As he shuffled back, it moved with him, like two magnets, or like there was a string tied to him and the shadow in the sea. 

The water grew paler the closer to the shore, and the further back Wakatoshi moved, the more distinctly apparent the shape in the water became. Instead of a blob, it grew long, and thin. Another shuffle back and Wakatoshi saw in the next moment, a distinct head and what could only be a tail. He shot up like a bullet out of a gun, notepad and pencils clattering down to the rocks, umbrella rolling. He stared at the shadow in the water, lighter now. Something glimmered below the surface, like fish scales. A boot stepped back and slipped a little against the slick rocks, and Wakatoshi’s body locked up. The notebook on the ground grew wet, charcoal bleeding until the picture became just a mess of darkness, but still Wakatoshi could not move. 

Slowly, slowly he began to hear it, something like the sound of the sea but more melodic. Every sane thought fled, but Wakatoshi’s body jerked in reaction, hands slapping up over his ears as he stared with wide eyes. His heart was racing so fast that it was a wonder he’d heard anything else at all. The mermaid’s song, a siren song, would doom any who heard it. His family and the whole town had drilled that into every single child born by the sea. It wasn’t just a superstition. If mermaids were real, then a human should above all fear their voices. Wakatoshi could not move. 

Slowly, the shadow slithered away, back into deeper waters, and like that string connecting them was actually there, Wakatoshi was able to pull himself up and stand up straight. His calf was cramping but he did not try to move unnecessarily to rub it out. He was still in danger, and he could not remove his hands from his ears at all, fear and his mother’s words rushing through his body. As the shadows faded back into the deep of the sea and the sound of rain came rushing back like someone had muted it til now, Wakatoshi dropped his hands and stiffly gathered up his things, his umbrella useless now as he was soaked to the core. He hadn’t even felt cold until now, not in the way that wet rain did. The cold he’d felt had ebbed from deep in his soul, dread. Beyond his sight, the ship sat dark and silent and Wakatoshi had no doubt. 

He hugged his things to him, wet now, and he glanced at the water one more time. He froze once more, captured by an unknown entity. Too far out to reasonably see colors or shapes, and yet Ushijima could see two sharp points of light just above the surface of the water, close together and moving as one. If the sight of it didn’t convince him, the chill down his spine did: someone was watching him, two eyes like yellow tourmaline lit up by a flame. Wakatoshi whirled around and ran for his life. 

He did not step foot again outside the rest of the week, the rain magically stopping the moment he shut his front door. He took a long bath and tried not to think of those eyes like little flames, glowing out in dark, dark waters.

x

Wakatoshi wanted to disappear, hide away forever in his humble lighthouse abode, but his pantry was running very low on food. He’d already put his bi-weekly shopping trip on hold for three days, and he could not wait any longer now. With a wavering bravery that was caused by fear of the unknown and wild rumors, Wakatoshi told himself to not let something like this rob his freedoms, and he set out, avoiding at all costs the cove named for its inhabitants. 

The town was bustling with news, and if the lighthouse keeper had hoped to make it a rushed trip, the town folks had other plans. Groups of women huddled together, speaking in surprisingly hushed tones, and the men sat in groups as well, speaking louder than the women now, but Wakatoshi tried to ignore their voices. 

“Hey,” called a voice from behind him, and Wakatoshi looked up first, slowly turning when the greeting was called again. Behind him stood someone that barely pulled at a memory. “Sorry about the other time,” confirmed this was the kid who’d bumped into him on his last shopping trip. He was scratching at the back of his head and smiling crookedly, but Wakatoshi could barely even remember his face, so he shrugged and turned back to his mission. He wasn’t sure why the guy had even called out to him again. 

“Hey, hey!” called the guy again, but Wakatoshi waved him off as he walked onto the next shop. Thankfully, the man did not follow, and Wakatoshi knew quiet again for a split second. 

“She’s still ‘ere!”

“It must be true then.” Three women huddled together, voices just loud enough for Wakatoshi to hear. Despite the annoyance he felt, his ears pricked up and he found himself listening as he shopped. 

“Have ye gone to look? ‘Tis’ an eerie sight, that ship.”

“My mans told me not to go.”

“Mine too.”

“It‘s just so quiet... It just sits ‘ere...”

The three women went silent, and slowly Wakatoshi lifted his head. Three sets of eyes were watching him, following his every move. Slowly, he dropped his hand to rest in the basket he’d been searching in. 

One of the women’s eyes jerked up to his and she watched him with an unparalleled intensity, the other two a little meeker as their eyes dropped down to his hand in the basket of apples. 

“You’ve been, haven’t ye?”

Her voice broke the quiet that had fallen, and Wakatoshi blinked at her, not responding. 

“You’ve seen tha ship,” she stressed. 

He tilted his head slowly, lips pressing together, but that was enough answer for the brunette woman. Her voice fell to a hushed whisper as her eyes narrowed, “Have ya seen ‘em too?”

He didn’t have to ask to know she was speaking of the mermaids. Still, he kept quiet, staring back. The other two women’s faces drained white with fear as they clung to their skirts. They looked fairly old, but everyone aged so rapidly once they hit their 30’s here that it was hard to tell their true age. They were probably actually no older than 35, but they worked hard and that aged them, along with the sun and the salty air. He felt no pity for their lives, but he wondered how scared they really were when they lived fairly far inland, and he lived right on the edge of the sea. 

“What do ye think ‘appened? To tha ship and crew?”

He didn’t acknowledge her question for a moment, slowly pulling his hand away from the apple basket and bringing everything he’d collected up to the front to pay for it. Three pairs of eyes watched him as a young teen boy counted his produce and totaled him a price. He dug out the coins from his pocket and handed them over, finally turning back to the three ladies, towering over them. The two cowered in fear, but the one who’d spoken to him stood tall and a little braver, though there was a wary shine to her eyes. 

“Maybe they all committed suicide,” was all he said as he turned away. Whispers began immediately and he sighed as he moved out of the main part of town, headed to the small general store for drawing supplies. His only empty notebook was now wet, pages unusable. The picture he’d drawn of the cove was just a mass of black smudges, wet and now dried, and yet he still hadn’t thrown it away. It sat on the bottom step just inside his front door, drying and then forgotten. He browsed through the small art section and picked out new pencils and a pad of paper, as well as two colored pencils he grabbed on a whim. 

“I’ve ne’er seen ye grab any colors,” the old man remarked behind the counter as he slowly rose to count out how much Wakatoshi owed him. “Six silver pieces,” he crooned as he taped at the counter. Wakatoshi’s eyes widened in annoyance, and he frowned. 

“That’s more than last time.”

“A sign o’ tha times,” the man said with a dead face. “Fear makes prices rise.” 

Wakatoshi rolled his eyes and huffed under his breath, but the man was so old, and he was the only one in town who sold these things, so no one said a word to his whims. Wakatoshi dug out five silver pieces and said, “Take it,” as he swept up his items. 

The man grumbled but he let Wakatoshi go, collecting his five coins. “If you draw me a picture of that ship, your next purchase will be on me,” the man called after Ushijima, cackling. Old people and their ways to find entertainment... Wakatoshi plowed out of the shop, clutching his new supplies to his chest, angry. He stared up at the sky, not raining anymore but still overcast. He sighed wearily, fingers itching again to draw, but he had to get his food home. He stuffed his notepad and pencils into his bag and headed out. 

x

His feet stopped, halfway back home from town, bag straps clutched to his shoulder as he carried the heavy load of groceries, and he turned his head slowly to look out to the sea on his right. The sea was quiet again today, and it was beginning to be eerie how still it was getting. Wakatoshi shifted the bag on his shoulder and stared out at the blue-ish waters, something keeping his feet from moving forward again. 

A beam of sunlight broke through the dreary clouds and yellow light shone down to blue water. Wakatoshi could draw that light now, he thought as he stared at it vacantly. He had a yellow pencil just in his shopping bag, one he’d just bought. He wasn’t even sure why he’d picked out the colored pencils, but something had drawn him to the bright yellow and deep oranges, like there was something he meant to draw with them. Slowly, mindlessly, he walked forward to the edge of the water, staring out over the sea and the ship that still sat there. The mystery was becoming less and less about the ship and more about that shadow, those eyes. Ushijima scolded himself for being curious, his mother would roll over in her grave, but still he slowly squatted down and set his bag on the rocks beneath his feet, digging blindly for his new paper pad and pencils, eyes on the water the whole time. He was scared to take his eyes off for even a moment, lest he be dragged under in a split second by what he could not see. The itch to draw won over his ingrained fears, and he puffed out his chest. 

Eyes darted up and down, up and down, to the sea before him and then the paper in his lap. With a mad ferociousness, he drew like he might forget how to any moment. The clouds moved lazily, the sun beam slowly moving across the blue waters. Up and down, up and down, seeing but not seeing. It wasn’t until a sharp shrill sounded that Wakatoshi realized he’d never seen it coming. He yelled aloud and startled back, his bag of groceries knocking over. He watched with wide eyes as a bell pepper slowly rolled down, down, down to the water’s edge where a dark shadow lay. 

It was more than a shadow today. The light helped him see better through the clear water, and more than that, floating just above the edge of the water, a pair of eyes and the top half of a face, messy bright orange wisps of hair sticking this way and that as the breeze coasted by. Wakatoshi yelped again as the face rose up and a row of deathly sharp, razor-like teeth grinned at him. The creature before him let out a high tremolo of sound, and suddenly the lighthouse keeper remembered his senses. He slapped his hands over his ears, plugging them as he stared with giant eyes at what could only be a mermaid before him. He locked his heels into the rocks under them and wondered if it was already too late for that; would he be taken? 

Under the water, a tail swished, long and big, very much like a fish’s but in the very same way not at all. Sharp edges like broken glass decorated the tail, and at the end of it, tendrils like the dangerous wisps of a jellyfish trailed into darker waters. Pale skin melted perfectly into the tail and rough scales, but it wasn’t like that was where the similarities to a human began. No, this creature was certainly all mythical and magical. His eyes were wider than they should be, his nose more of a flat thing against his face with two dark slashes where his nostrils would be, slits along his too-long neck, though that might just be an illusion under the water. The grin rested just above the edge of the water, chin submerged along with the rest of the body. The mermaid’s cheekbones were so sharp and pronounced, and the irises were more like two giant jewels stuck into the face with the way they shone, multi-faceted, only a dark slit in the middle slicing through. There was no white to the creature’s eyes, just big, wide, jeweled eyes. The sun shifted and the skin on his face seemed to shimmer like a mirage, and Ushijima for a moment could not help but think that this creature was indeed _beautiful_. He dug his heels in deeper. 

They sat frozen like that for a long time, muted sounds of chirps and warbles resounding, but Wakatoshi kept his hands over his ears. He watched as the creature’s eyes shifted down, a lone bell pepper tapped innocently, shyly against the mermaid’s submerged chin, bright red against white skin. Wakatoshi wondered how the little vegetable could be so brave. He watched with horror as the long, sharp teeth slowly split and in a second, they snapped down on the pepper, a defense mechanism more than the fact that the mermaid knew this was food. The face it pulled confirmed it. Wakatoshi almost wanted to laugh, but his face went slack and he stared in horror at the giant chunk taken out of his poor vegetable. Suddenly, his sanity rushed back and he scrambled to his feet, grabbing his bag and his pencils and note pad and running as fast as he could, away, away. 

A sad, broken cry rippled through the air, but Wakatoshi didn’t dare turn around to see. 

x

Wakatoshi spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, small fits of sleeping in between a mostly sleepless night. He couldn’t get a certain image out of his head, and yet he knew that if he tried to draw it, he wouldn’t be able to. Those eyes, like jewels, were haunting him, and he wondered if this was the effect of hearing a mermaid’s song, even just the small bit he’d listened to. As the sun began to break over the horizon, Ushijima pulled his heavy body out of bed and bundled up, trudging downstairs to pull on his boots and stepping into the cool, seaside air. It was quiet, peaceful in the very early morning hours. Above him, the light from his lighthouse still illuminated a bit in the slowly lightening sky. He slowly made his way to the edge of the cliff, the side facing the sun. He dropped down to sit in soft grass a little wet from dew, legs dangling over the cliff, living dangerously because he was so tired he didn’t care, his eyes glued to the sea and the horizon. 

The waters were rough far out, but here, all there was was the lapping of waves against craggy rocks below, far below. He sat staring so long at the sky as it turned from dark to purple that he nearly nodded off. He jerked himself awake as the sky was beginning to turn a crisp orange, the specific shade that was like deja vu, and his eyes jerked down to the dark water as he swore he saw a shadow flit across his peripheral vision. He shook his head, knowing he wouldn’t be able to see a distinct shape even if he wanted to. The water was too far down and still dark from lack of light over top of it. He glanced back at the sun and sighed in deep frustration, scrubbing a hand over his far-past-five’o’clock shadow. His throat was dry and his lids heavy, and all he wanted to do was sleep. He laid down in the grass and stared at the orange and yellow sun, lids falling down as he swore he heard a high, melodic voice singing up to him from the waters below. 

x

Wakatoshi jerked awake with the sun high in the sky, grass marks on his cheek, his body stiff from the position he’d laid in and the hard ground beneath him. He slowly peeled himself off the ground and wondered for a moment what he was doing out here. He stared at the sea below his dangling legs and shivered in the cool breeze. For a moment, he couldn’t move. Dark shadows seemed to swim in a frenzy in the water below the cliff. The water was rowdy as it smacked roaringly against the rock face. Something piercing struck Ushijima’s chest, and he grabbed at his sweater, frowning. He wondered what this feeling was. His fingers ached to draw again, but the memory was now far too gone to even attempt to draw what he wanted to. He slowly stood and stared out at the sea, at the small ship floating by, and he wondered what his mother would think if she saw him now. 

He trudged inside to make breakfast and bathe, washing clothes, whittling wood, anything to keep busy, but he was bone tired, and by the time the sun set again, he was crawling into bed with an itch under his skin that would not be scratched and dreary, droopy eyes. He fell asleep in an instant. 

When he awoke again with a start, the sky pitch black outside, he felt jittery and glaringly wakeful. He sighed deeply and tried to erase the dream he’d had from his mind, but it clung to him. He pulled out his notepad and pencils, flipping the book open. A half-finished scene of the cove with a ray of sun over the water greeted him, and he frowned, slowly flipping to the next page. He could picture colors so well, but when he tried to form them into shapes on the paper, he felt like he’d never drawn before in his whole life. He turned his face up to the ceiling and shut his eyes. What was this feeling, he wondered. He scrubbed at his chest again. 

It was like aching. Like missing someone. 

x

The sea was thunderously loud, like it refused to let Ushijima think for even a moment. It made it hard to concentrate on anything he tried to do inside the lighthouse, and his thoughts became a jumbled mess, so he angrily pulled on his rain coat and strutted outside to try to find some quiet somewhere. He jogged down the big hill his lighthouse sat on, walking until the sea became quieter. He turned to look around and knew all too quickly where he was. He stared down the path to the cove, frozen for a moment, but the quiet coming from that direction pulled him towards it. 

With heavy feet, Wakatoshi plodded down the narrow path, eyes up as he watched the way the cove opened up for him, the sea beyond calm somehow, though it had been ragging just a few miles away. This place felt magical, even aside from the residents here, or perhaps cursed. The ship sat still where it had been left, not even swayed by the sea now. This place felt frozen in time. 

But it was quiet, and that was good enough for Wakatoshi. His grasp on respect for his own safety was growing thinner and thinner. He sat down on a big rock a few feet from the water, off to the left, and pulled out his sketch pad and the few pencils he’d stuffed in his coat pockets. Mindlessly, he began to draw, just glad for the silence. His thoughts drifted and he let them roam. 

Twenty minutes in, he felt it. It didn’t scare him as it had before, as he was very aware that the mermaid was keeping its own distance from him. Still, he could feel jeweled eyes, an intense stare, watching him. When he’d finished finally drawing the ship sitting lonely on the calm waves, he looked up, face expressionless as he met the gaze of two round eyes watching him just over the top of the water. 

“Hey,” called Wakatoshi dumbly, the head of orange bobbing either in excitement or fear, the mermaid swimming a little bit closer at his voice. “You don’t seem so scary, but I guess that’s part of it, huh,” the tall man mumbled, and the mermaid tilted its head, bubbles rising as it spoke through the water. Somehow, the warbled tones came through, and Wakatoshi slapped his hands over his ears in automatic response. He stared at the mermaid, wondering why he’d even done it at this point, the superstition engrained in him seeming a little silly now. If the mermaid had meant to harm him, he’d had plenty of chances already. 

The mermaid bobbed its head fully out of the water, expression first surprised at Wakatoshi’s reaction, and then he was chirping, rambling probably, head bobbing this way and that as he laughed. Eyes narrowed and that big, toothy mouth grinned at the human. Wakatoshi sighed and slowly dropped his hands, shrugging. 

“It’s not like we can even understand each other,” sighed Ushijima, leaning back against the rock face behind him, watching the mermaid carefully. Gorgeous eyes like the sunset watched him back. 

The creature tilted its head the other way now, chirped in confusion or question, and slowly it began swimming around in circles. Wakatoshi watched it, wondering what this was supposed to mean, like it was an interpretive dance. As the mermaid’s movements became longer, more fluid and graceful, the creature coming closer and closer, Wakatoshi realized with a start that this was not simple communication or boredom. No, this thing was trying to woo him into the water. When the mermaid noticed that he’d noticed, he twisted onto his back and chirped happily, the sound so melodic that it left Wakatoshi breathless for a moment. The sun caught on thousands of shiny scales, and suddenly the creature seemed to be glowing in the water, so pretty that even Wakatoshi thought he wouldn’t mind getting taken away. Its tail was made of long, thin trails, all looking equally as fragile and beautiful, and deadly. It reminded him of the tentacles and arms of a jellyfish, so pretty to watch, but absolutely dangerous. Shades of orange and yellow like the mermaid’s eyes mixed together, and under the sunlight, it seemed like a sun in itself. 

Wakatoshi shook his head, the mermaid slowing down, coming carefully back around, eyes just above the water again as it watched him. There was no way they could understand each other, but Wakatoshi felt like those eyes could read him like an open book. 

“Hey, what happened to the people on the ship?” Wakatoshi called in an effort to distract all the attention on him. He fidgeted uncomfortably, but the big eyes just blinked at him in confusion. The chin raised up over the water and the mermaid chirped out a question. Wakatoshi sighed, eyes slipping down, the notepad in his lap. Suddenly he raised it, startling the creature in the water, but he pointed at his drawing, circling the ship with his big finger. The mermaid inched closer, closer, eyes on the drawing. He came so close that his whole upper body was exposed, arms holding him aloft until he was only a few inches from where Ushijima’s hand was circling the ship. Cool breath spilled over his hand and Wakatoshi froze. Everything was still for a long, long time, only the soft sound of the sea ebbing and receding to fill the silence. 

There was a soft little high note, and the creature tilted its head to look past the sketch pad at Wakatoshi. It grinned, warbled out a few more sounds, like giggling. And then just like that, the pad was snatched out of Wakatoshi’s hand and the mermaid was back out in deeper waters, clutching the thing high above its head like a prize, cackling gleefully. Wakatoshi yelped, but he’d been too frozen by those gorgeous eyes so close to him to even react until now. He stood up in a rush and yelped as his leg gave out under him and he stumbled forward. The splash of water sounded and Wakatoshi looked down in horror to see his boots were on the water’s edge. The mermaid was still laughing, the sound moving this way and that. Wakatoshi looked up again to see his notepad being mockingly waved above the thing’s head, and he called out, angry now. 

“Give it back! I just bought that one!” He stepped forward again without thinking, and suddenly the creature was all coy again as it crooned at him, eyes watching the human. Wakatoshi took a quick step back again as the look chilled him, retreating just out of the water. The mermaid swam back a little ways, notepad still lifted up. Its arms were slim and long, paler than could be possible in a human, nearly translucent. Scales shimmered in random spots, almost like freckles across its arms and chest. Wakatoshi found himself speechless again as he slowly sank down to his haunches. 

“Hey, give it back please,” he asked, hopelessly at this point. Big, jeweled eyes watched him, and Wakatoshi sighed again, slowly raising his hand to hold it out. The mermaid took the gesture in, slipping a little closer again. The book lowered and the creature chirped as it clutched the thing in thin, pale hands, tongue clicking out something like Morse code. It trilled and warbled, staring at Wakatoshi’s drawing like it was telling a story, maybe. What caught Wakatoshi was the way its face went so soft, expression quietly enamored, lips smiling softly. A slim finger slowly moved across the page, following rough charcoal lines. A cry jolted Wakatoshi out of his trance, dismay so apparent on the mermaid’s face as it peered up, eyes so sad. 

“What...?” Wakatoshi murmured, until he realized that the mermaid’s wet finger had smeared his pencil marks. Big, yellow eyes jerked down again to the page, and a mess of distressed sounds wobbled out of the thing’s throat. Wakatoshi frowned, but the creature looked genuinely upset. 

“Hey, it’s not a big deal... It was just a sketch. Just give it back-“ 

Yellow eyes jerked up and Wakatoshi forgot what else he’d meant to say. The mermaid had touched the page again, and seemed truly distressed now, confused. Wakatoshi stared in shock as big tears began to fall, the crystal-like drops turning into pearls as they fell, and all he could do was stare. Like instinct to comfort drove him, he snatched the pad back to a horrid cry of anger and despair, and he began drawing again on the next page, a new ship. It took him a few minutes, a very rough drawing, and then he held it out again. 

“See? It’s fine. I could draw a million of these...”

The mermaid’s face froze, tears stopping, one last little plop of a pearl falling sounding, and suddenly the thing was smiling again. Big, sharp teeth showed, white as the pearls that had just formed; it grinned so wide that Wakatoshi was almost petrified for a moment. Pale hands reached for the pad again, but Wakatoshi pulled it back, to the great distress of the mermaid. He ripped out the first page, showed it again, then carefully dipped his finger into the water, brushing it across the page. Wide eyes watched him. 

“It’s because you’re wet that the picture is smudging,” Wakatoshi murmured. Big eyes jerked back to him, and the mermaid tried to mimic what he’d just said, voice deeper like Wakatoshi’s, but still too high to be anything but melodic. The mermaid chirped again and looked back at the drawing, then at its hands. 

“Weeet?” it warbled out, and Wakatoshi blinked.

“Yeah,” he said dumbly. “You’re wet.”

The mermaid shivered in delight, repeated again, “Wet, weeet!” Wakatoshi felt exasperated, but he kept his eye roll internal. Quietly, he turned back to the pad in his lap, flipped a new page and began drawing. Sharp features, something uncannily human but not, and with his colored pencils, eyes like yellow garnet gemstones. The mermaid went quiet as it listened to him sketch, pencil against rough paper, and slowly Wakatoshi held the pad back up. 

“You,” he said, as he pointed to the drawing, and then to the creature. “That’s what you look like.” Not really, he wasn’t that good of an artist, but he felt he’d done ok. He wondered if the creature had ever seen its own face. A cry sounded, delighted confusion, and when Wakatoshi lowered the pad to look at it, it was touching its own face in wonder. Eyes flicked up to Wakatoshi and the thing crooned out, “You?”

“No,” huffed Wakatoshi, but how could he explain to this person the intricacies of human language. Instead he just pointed at the picture and then the mermaid again. 

“You!” chirped the mermaid. Wakatoshi sighed again, and the smile slipped a little.

“You need a name,” murmured the human, looking up at the sky, sun shining down on them. Back at the creature before him, tail and scales sparkling in the sun. 

“Hinata,” he called. Big, pretty eyes looked up at him, full of an expression that Wakatoshi couldn’t name, something like hope. “Hinata,” he said again, pointing first at the photo, and then at the mermaid. 

“Hinataaa~” sang the creature, eyes glittering as lips turned up into a big smile. Again, “Hinata!”

Wakatoshi nodded slowly, turning his hand back to himself. “And I’m Ushijima.”

Hinata cocked its head, eyes slipping to happy confusion. “I’m~” he warbled.

“No,” Wakatoshi gruffed, making the mermaid laugh. He pointed to his own chest again. “Ushijima.”

Head tilted again, this time the other way, Hinata blinking those big, bright eyes. It chirped out a question. 

“Ushijima,” he tried again. Hinata chirped something that sounded melodically like his name, but it wasn’t fully formed sounds like before. Wakatoshi was getting frustrated as he wondered why it even mattered. Still he said again, sharper, “Ushi! Jima!”

Suddenly the pale lips before him split wide open, teeth showing again as the mermaid crooned, “Ushi!” It giggled. “Ushi!” It tried again, pretending to be angry like Wakatoshi was. Another giggle. 

Wakatoshi sighed, “Fine...”

“Ushi, Ushi!”

“Yeah, don’t wear it out.” He was regretting even mentioning it, but his name did sound so pretty in the musical way Hinata had of speaking. “Ushijima.”

“Jima!” cried Hinata, excited. “Ushi! Jima!”

Wakatoshi quietly closed his note book with another sigh, but he froze when something cold and wet slid down his forearm. His head jerked up and wide eyes met his own, Hinata frozen still. 

“Ushi. Jima,” the mermaid whispered so softly, so pretty. Wakatoshi felt frozen, unsure if it was the way Hinata said his name or the hand on his arm that was causing his brain to malfunction. Hinata pushed up a little closer on his other arm, fingers shivering against Wakatoshi’s skin. “Ushi~ Jima~”

Wakatoshi wished he wasn’t enamored by the way Hinata said his name, or fixated on the spot as the mermaid drew closer still. He could almost see the individual facets of Hinata’s eyes and the way some were pale yellow, some more sunshine yellow, all the way to a bright orange. 

“Hinata,” he breathed as a caution, for himself or the other, he wasn’t sure. Hinata’s hand slid again over his arm and the mermaid shivered audibly, a soft, breathy noise that pulled at something deep inside Ushijima. He shivered too, a much huskier sound that made Hinata pause and then give a seductive croon. Wakatoshi jerked back, eyes wide as he realized what exactly was happening. He had named a dangerous creature and let it get so close. Fingers gripped lightly at his forearm and Hinata gave a small whine of sadness at Wakatoshi’s distance, but now his heart was racing, and he was fighting his heart and his mind. One wanted to stay and touch more, the other begged him to be sane and _run_. Wakatoshi rushed up to his feet and stepped back, Hinata’s hand raised in the air and expression so sad and lonely. 

“I’ll be back!” blurted out the lighthouse keeper. He pointed to where his house was, and then back to the cove. “I’ll be back!”

Hinata’s hand dropped, face so sad, and if he started crying again, Wakatoshi would never leave. He turned on his heel and ran, barely hearing the way Hinata keened out, “Ushi, Jima, back?”

Wakatoshi ran all the way, thinking that this was the mermaid’s curse, and that as soon he got away from it, his heart would stop hammering in his chest and he’d stop _missing Hinata_ , but those feelings never faded, and Wakatoshi had to accept that maybe there was no such thing... as a mermaid’s curse, lest it was to fall in love.

x

Wakatoshi set aside his pencil, running a finger over the edge of the drawing he’d been holed up working on for the past three days. He wanted it to be perfect, and yet he felt he was greatly lacking even as he stared down at it now. Perhaps if he saw the subject again... There was some quality of Hinata that was impossible to get on paper, but he was so breathtaking that Ushijima couldn’t help but try. He sighed, head in hand, tired. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he couldn’t get Hinata out of his head; as stupid as he knew it was, knowing now this was exactly what his mother had warned him against, he still couldn’t let it go so easily. He glanced at the clock, realizing with a start that it was way past 11. He climbed up to the top of the lighthouse to check on the light, finding everything, as always, in perfect working order. He climbed back down and made himself some food, trying to distract himself from the thoughts vying for attention, knowing that if he got into bed now they would all crowd in his brain and vie for attention all night. He wanted to finish his drawing, but he couldn’t. 

His dinner tasted bland and boring, his mind already a million miles away, or more exactly, in a small cove off the main path. He laid his head down and sighed wearily. Was it too late? It certainly seemed to be for him, but did mermaids have a bed time? It was definitely too late for him to be saved from whatever these feelings were, whether curse or blessing. And yet, he wanted to see Hinata, wanted to hear him laugh, see him smile. Wakatoshi wondered if it was so easy for him because Hinata couldn’t really talk to him, though it certainly seemed he had a lot to say. And yet, if Hinata could speak Wakatoshi’s language, the man wasn’t so sure he would mind hearing Hinata babble about anything and everything. Hinata felt easy on his soul, and yet, on the flip side, because of their circumstances, it was so, so hard. Wakatoshi didn’t want to admit it, but perhaps he had fallen under a spell; he couldn’t find it in himself to be upset about it. Oh, his mother would be so angry if she knew. 

Wakatoshi stood up, belly a little fuller now from his small dinner, and he cleaned up before heading down, bundled up to face the cool night. The breeze off the sea wasn’t so bad up on his cliff, but down in the cove, it would be colder, so he pulled on an extra sweater and his rain coat over top, hands stuffed in his pockets and feet into rain boots. He closed his front door behind him and made his way down the path, letting his feet lead him where his heart desired to go. 

The cove was eerily quiet, sea bathed only in the low light of the moon. Wakatoshi took a seat on the rock he’d used before, leaning back like he was comfortable against hard rock. He didn’t even know if Hinata would come out, or maybe another mermaid with less than noble intentions, but he stayed away from the water’s edge and waited, staring up at the sky in a day dream state. Fifteen minutes later, a soft splash sounded, and when he looked down, Hinata sat with his chin in his hands, lounging just at the edge of the water. When Wakatoshi met his eyes, Hinata chirped happily, and the man’s heart felt suddenly light and weightless. 

“I didn’t know if you’d come,” he murmured softly as he slowly sat up, eyes looking around, but as far as he could tell, they were alone. Hinata’s wide eyes never strayed from Ushijima for a moment, grin wide, looking so pure and innocent aside from the fact that he was considered a monster by most. Wakatoshi sat on the edge of his rock, leaning forward as Hinata grinned at him, his teeth so sharp and glinting in the moon light. The scales on his back, like freckles, would occasionally catch the light above, and his skin seemed to almost glow, unnatural but absolutely gorgeous. Wakatoshi knew there was no way he could draw _that_ , and yet he still memorized it. 

Hinata softly began to warble foreign language up at Ushijima, eyes searching, a moment of desperation when the man did not understand. He huffed, then ground out a musical version of, “Ushi! Jima. Back?”

The sounds seemed to feel awkward to Hinata, and Wakatoshi had to cover a crooked little smile as he nodded. “I’m back.”

“Hinata!” the mermaid crooned, grinning wide again. He reached up a hand, making fists over and over to motion Ushijima to come closer. “Back, back,” he crooned. Wakatoshi carefully stepped off the rock he was sitting on and took a slow seat a few inches from the water’s edge, which was quiet save for Hinata’s fidgeting. The man nearly yelped when Hinata flipped over and plopped his head down in Wakatoshi’s lap, grinning like a big kid, eyes shut. Hinata was smaller than he’d seemed, though any mermaid might feel larger than life, but the other’s personality sure made him feel bigger in Wakatoshi’s head. 

It was dark, but once in a while Hinata’s scales would catch the moonlight refracted under the water, and Ushijima could see the way it moved, a silent dance under the water’s edge. Wakatoshi wondered what Hinata felt like. Not even just his tail, but his skin and his hair... He kept his hands clenched against the ground, fists tight. Hinata chattered up at him about probably anything and everything, and Wakatoshi let his eyes wander, feeling peaceful. 

Hinata was very thin and very pale. Most of the people Wakatoshi had encountered had weight on their bones, and Ushijima himself was a man with a wide chest and big shoulders, his frame too bulky to be called pretty, unlike Hinata’s. He had small dips and curves, but his form was obviously male. His chest was so pale it almost sparkled under the moon, highlight against his collar bones and under each rib. Scales peppered his skin and shoulders, his gils on his neck and sides lying shut now as he breathed through his nose. Down his creamy belly, a small trail of scales began again much like the way Ushijima’s hair trailed down to the hem of his underwear, but Hinata was naked, only his scales covering him. Wakatoshi wondered for a wild moment how mermaids reproduced since he saw nothing obvious against smooth scales, though he quickly averted his eyes. Thankfully, Hinata was still chatting away. 

With a shock, Wakatoshi looked down to find Hinata had gone still at some point, a finger trailing slowly now at the edge of his jaw. Hinata’s eyes were clear, nearly reflective, so pretty under the sun and even now. They were darker, more orange and red, still as beautiful as ever though. And now Hinata was touching him, and Wakatoshi felt frozen. It wasn’t fear, though, that clutched at him. No, it was something hot and searing, something raw and visceral. He clenched his teeth and Hinata chirped softly, fingertips trailing lightly down Ushijima’s neck as he stared up at the other. It continued on for a long while, the night slowly claiming back its silence as it bathed them. 

Hinata suddenly flipped back over, one hand and arm holding him aloft as the light fingers at Ushijima’s neck turned into a full, gripping hand behind his neck, and Hinata pulled Wakatoshi with a strength the other could never have guessed the mermaid had. He swayed forward and jerked a hand out to steady himself, stopping Hinata’s pull on him, but now their faces were close, and Hinata was very still, his hand still pulling insistently at Wakatoshi’s neck. 

“Ushi. Jima,” he insisted. 

Wakatoshi set his lips to a frown. He wasn’t about to get in the water with this creature, but he was also trying to figure out what Hinata wanted from him. 

“Ushi. Jima,” Hinata pushed again. 

“What?” barked the man out, and Hinata went still again. 

“Ushi, Jima,” it breathed. 

“...Hinata...” Wakatoshi murmured back, frown falling as his face shifted to something expressionless. Hinata’s lips turned up into a smile in response. 

When Wakatoshi asked, “What, you wanted me to say your name?” Hinata chirped happily, smiling with sharp teeth, and Wakatoshi realized how close their faces were. It wasn’t like he could pull back, even if he wanted to. He stayed where he was. Hinata purred at him and he felt only more confused. 

Then, with a snap, Hinata was slithering off deeper into the water again, eyes on Ushijima as he began to swim around, going in circles so fast that he was making a little whirlpool. Wakatoshi watched; he felt enamored, missing the big smile the mermaid gave him as he showed off. Hinata moved this way and that, knowing exactly how to move to entice a human, how to catch the moonlight on his scales and skin. When he reached out a hand toward Wakatoshi, the man almost took it, leaning forward to reach for the hold, but he stopped when he realized Hinata was too deep in the water. Hinata slowed and frowned, warbling at Wakatoshi sadly, two hands out now for Wakatoshi to take. 

But Wakatoshi had no plans to get in the water. It was cool, and he had on pants that would get heavy and not dry fast. Sure, he only lived a short walk up a hill, but most importantly, he would never, ever get in the ocean with a mermaid beckoning him in. He was too smart for that. 

Three minutes later, Wakatoshi was sitting in the water, aggravated. Hinata was bobbing in the sea, grinning so wide in his victory. Wakatoshi had not gone willingly, but now that he was here, waist deep in frigid salt water, he couldn’t find it in himself to move. Hinata had feigned a small pain and Ushijima’s brain had shut off as he’d lunged forward, and now here he sat, soaked with a mermaid chirping happily in his ear. 

“Ushi, Jima!”

“Yeah, yeah,” murmured the human, but when he looked up into gorgeous, yellow jeweled eyes, he found some of his annoyance fading away. Hinata took a slow swim around the man, barely enough room for him to move, his tail cresting the top of the water, and Wakatoshi was ashamed to say he couldn’t take his eyes off of it. Thin arms wrapped around his neck and something solid slid into his lap. Wakatoshi blinked at Hinata, who was smiling so sweetly that it sent an arrow right through Ushijima’s senses. Oh, he wanted to kiss this mischievous little minx. Any moment he might die in the hands of this creature, but he found he didn’t mind so much when Hinata was this close, when he was so... pretty. The other keened at Wakatoshi and he sighed in his defeat, eyes sliding down. He hadn’t meant to look down at Hinata’s body, but now he’d seen it and he was glued to it. Hinata’s “knees” were bent and a small island of his tail floated just above the water; it was the closest Wakatoshi had ever seen it. It was a wonder to behold. The moonlight glinted off the glossy surface of every individual scale, the pigment in them shifting to different colors depending on how Hinata moved. Wakatoshi ached to touch and feel the mermaid, to know what every part of him felt like, but he let his hands float uselessly at his sides as he stared. Soft fingers trailed down Wakatoshi’s neck, and his eyes jerked up to find Hinata just as captivated with him as he’d been with the other. 

“Ushi, Jima,” Hinata purred deeply, the vibration of his chest felt against Wakatoshi’s, and his voice the true sin here. The big man shivered softly, eyes flitting out to the open sea in an attempt to distract. The ship sat lonely and black out on the water, and Wakatoshi tried to remind himself that this creature could _kill_ him. And yet Hinata had never seemed to try, unless he enjoyed the game more than the kill. Olive eyes flicked back to bright yellow and Hinata purred, smiling. 

Trailing fingers slid down the bare skin of Wakatoshi’s neck and pulled at the collar of his sweaters, trying to see more, but Wakatoshi had no intention of letting this crazy mermaid strip him, too, so he caught the hand that was trying to peel his warm clothes back, and perhaps that was more of a detriment to himself than he’d imagined. Now Hinata’s hand was in his, cradled, and he could feel just how small and fragile it was, how soft the skin compared to his rough, calloused palms. Hinata was staring up at him with those giant, doe eyes, and Wakatoshi let out a slow, rough breath of trying very hard to maintain his alive status. Currently, it was his own body that was trying to betray him as his heart caught in his chest, beating suddenly too fast and irregular. Hinata was... gorgeous, and so small, really, and very, very pretty. 

Ushijima tried to slip his hand away from Hinata’s, but thin fingers gripped his palm and instead pulled it roughly down to his body. Wakatoshi’s fingertips made first contact with Hinata’s scales and it was like electricity through his veins. Wakatoshi gasped, and his eyes jerked down, back up again, panicked. In Hinata’s eyes was this look that almost screamed, “I know you wanted to, and I want it, too.” Wakatoshi’s hand spasmed and his whole palm slid to cradle cool scales, and he felt he couldn’t breathe. He was half-hard.

It was hard to describe the sensation of touching Hinata’s tail. Unlike a fish’s body, Hinata’s scales were incredibly soft and more fragile. Like every scale was made up of something more akin to velvet, it was impossible for Wakatoshi not to touch the other now that he had. Despite their rough appearance, they were pliable and easily breakable, and Wakatoshi thought it fitting to Hinata himself as well. He slid his hand first over the exposed part of the tail, and then slowly he followed it down into the water, down towards a dangerous but captivating looking fin. Wakatoshi couldn’t explain to anyone, let alone himself, how Hinata could possibly be so soft here when it was scales, fish scales (!) that adorned his body, but he could not deny that irresistible feeling. 

The more Wakatoshi pet Hinata, the softer his voice became, until the mermaid was practically melted into a puddle. Wakatoshi was so focused on touching that he barely noticed Hinata’s state until a head plopped down and came to rest in the crook of his neck, and Wakatoshi startled. His hand slipped around Hinata’s tail like he meant to grab the other, like he was slipping, maybe, and Hinata exhaled hot against Wakatoshi’s neck with a sigh that could only be a siren’s beckon into the deep. Wakatoshi was falling so fast, and suddenly he understood why he had never been allowed even near the shore in this cove. Hinata was a dangerous trap, and Wakatoshi had fallen in, willingly, and head first. And now all he wanted was to hold Hinata and keep him breathing and moaning like that against his skin. 

He flattened his palm and slid it down the underside of Hinata’s tail, down to where his bum would be. Tiny hands grabbed into his coat and sweater, and Hinata keened. When Wakatoshi’s other hand pressed flat against Hinata’s bare chest, curled around his back to hold him, Hinata shivered out the most beautiful high note, and Wakatoshi knew he was absolutely doomed. Hinata’s skin was soft, too, still wet even above water, and cool. Still, he was warmer than the water Wakatoshi sat in, and he hugged the magical creature to himself, leaning closer to Hinata’s face as the mermaid pulled back a little. Wet, hopeful, jewel-like eyes watched Ushijima, waiting for something, but Wakatoshi didn’t know what, couldn’t guess what without the words falling from Hinata’s lips. He wanted to kiss Hinata, wanted to take him home, wanted to stay here forever. A wet hand cupped his cheek and everything in Wakatoshi’s head stopped. Hinata was beautiful. 

Hinata was kissing him. 

Hinata tasted like sweet, pickled herring, a distinct flavor but one that Wakatoshi in particular, very much enjoyed. Lips soft, cool, wet, slid over his own, and he felt dumb for not knowing how to kiss back. Teeth scraped over his lower lip softly in inexperience, and somehow that was the thing that set Wakatoshi off. He cradled Hinata tighter and exhaled sharply, head tilting slowly, slowly as he deepened the kiss for the frantic, desperate little mermaid in his arms. Hinata’s other hand grabbed a fistful of Wakatoshi’s sweater at his back, clinging to Wakatoshi as he flailed with his kiss. 

“Calm down,” murmured Wakatoshi to soft, wet lips even as his own heart tried to jump out of his chest. Hinata choked out a desperate cry, arm pulling tighter around Wakatoshi’s back. Rough fingers slowly caressed up Hinata’s side, over his rib cage, catching on something that made Hinata choke out a moan. Wakatoshi pulled hastily away from the kiss to see where his fingers had landed. Hinata’s gills flared uselessly beneath Wakatoshi’s fingertips, and he pulled them away, but it was too late. Pearls dropped into the water and Wakatoshi’s head jerked up in panic to find Hinata crying, lips twisted pitifully. 

“Back, Ushi, Jima,” he begged sorrowfully as he tugged at whatever he could get his hands on. Wakatoshi shifted on the rock he sat on as he watched Hinata cry, watched him beg, looking so beautiful, sounding... perfect. “Ushi, Jima, back~!”

“Hinata, say please,” breathed Wakatoshi, not even sure what he was doing; his mind was filled with Hinata, with the sight and sound of him, everything. It was only Hinata. 

Hinata let out a warbled cry of frustration, still tugging at Wakatoshi’s sweater, but the man did not budge. “Hinata,” he called again. “Please?”

Hinata’s pretty lips began to shake around the sound he was trying to mimic. “P-p-please?”

“Say, “Ushijima, please”?”

“Ushi- pleaseee~”

Wakatoshi sighed, warmth curling in his gut. He was more than half hard now. 

“Ushiplease-“ Hinata sobbed, and he could barely stand to see this beautiful creature cry anymore. In one fluid motion, Wakatoshi not even aware he could be so smooth, he slipped to his knees and laid Hinata down into the water, towering over him. Yellow eyes snapped wide, tears stopped in an instant as Hinata took in Wakatoshi above him, over him. The man pulled Hinata’s tail against his waist and slid close over Hinata’s chest, until he reached his prize. Hinata grabbed him and yanked him to his lips, desperate. Like a fish out of water, he was trying to gobble Wakatoshi up, but the man had a plan. He slid his other hand back up Hinata’s side, fingering slowly over the edge of flared gills that inhaled in water, and Hinata went suddenly very meek. Wakatoshi kissed him, an assurance that Hinata didn’t have to try so hard. Wakatoshi didn’t know much more about how to kiss someone, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t the one who would pull Hinata apart like sweet taffy. Fingertips played with sensitive gills, and Hinata was making sweet little noises again, able to only cling to the man above him. Wakatoshi kissed Hinata with passion, with love and adoration. He kissed him like how he felt. Heat spread between them. When Wakatoshi braved a lick at sharp teeth, Hinata shivered out a sweet croon. 

“Hinata,” Wakatoshi husked, and Hinata keened back a response. “Hinata,” he whispered again. “Hinata,” over and over as he licked and kissed Hinata, until teeth parted and Wakatoshi explored deeper inside. 

“Watch your teeth,” he murmured even if the words meant nothing to Hinata, but still he slowly ventured his tongue over sharp teeth, into Hinata’s mouth and over the roof. Hinata inhaled sharply, but he kept his jaw slack. His gills fluttered willfully against Wakatoshi’s fingers, and he smiled. He licked over Hinata’s tongue, sharper than a human tongue in shape, more of that soft velvet, or something even softer still. Hinata responded instantly, curling his own tongue around Wakatoshi’s, and slowly, Hinata began to kiss him again, no longer frantic, but mimicked movements. Wakatoshi exhaled sharply when teeth grazed over his tongue, but it didn’t hurt, a shiver down his spine instead. Hinata crooned, and Wakatoshi pulled him closer. 

When they pulled apart, Wakatoshi let Hinata slip back to lay in the water, orange hair swirling out to surround his angelic face like a halo. Wakatoshi set his hands to the rocks below, caging the mermaid as he stared in awe. 

“Hinata,” he breathed, crystal clear eyes staring up at him, waiting. Hinata in his natural elements, cheeks flushed, eyes glistening; he was gorgeous. Wakatoshi pursed his lips, knowing it was useless to embarrass himself by saying it aloud. Hinata wouldn’t understand his words anyways. And yet... “Hinata, you are so gorgeous.”

The mermaid’s head cocked, eyes swimming with confusion, but Hinata smiled. 

“Gorgeous,” Wakatoshi whispered again. 

“Gorgeous~”chimed Hinata, smiling. 

“Yeah,” husked Wakatoshi, “you are.”

“Gorgeous!” Hinata giggled, his fingers spreading against his chest like he knew already. “Hinata, gorgeous,” he sang with a laugh. 

“Yeah, yeah,” huffed the human as he pulled back to sit up again. A hand caught his arm and when he looked down, Hinata’s eyes were dead serious. 

“Ushi, Jima,” he murmured in a low tone, the same one from before that made Wakatoshi freeze. “Ushijima, gorgeous.”

Wakatoshi was speechless, frozen. He couldn’t even laugh it off because Hinata was looking at him in a way that said he knew exactly what he’d just said. Wakatoshi couldn’t, and shouldn’t, refute it. A hand cupped his cheek and Hinata whispered again, “Gorgeous.”

With a rough pull, Wakatoshi sat fully up, standing then and shuffling stiffly out of the water. He couldn’t look back as splashing sounded, as Hinata called his name. He couldn’t look at Hinata again lest he forget all rationality. He pulled his heavy boots off, hopping this way and that in his hurry, and without a look back, he ran. 

His heart was stuck in his throat, beating wildly. 

Hinata thought he was gorgeous. 

x

Wakatoshi was still trying to process what had happened a few days ago, him and a mermaid, but so far, he was having very little luck understanding what had occurred. He knew he’d kissed Hinata, but why, he did not know. He remembered clearly that Hinata had called him gorgeous, but the reason to that was a mystery as well, and mostly Wakatoshi was trying to tell himself to forget it since Hinata didn’t know what the word meant. Still, it stuck to him, as did the feel of Hinata’s tail and his skin and his lips... Damn. 

Wakatoshi had at first spent too much time trying not to think about it, before coming to the conclusion that this route was harder than just facing the facts. The problem was, he wanted answers that his own heart could not provide, or at least not the answers he wanted. His heart was trying to convince him he was in love and that was just not what Ushijima wanted to hear. He was crazy in the head, he told himself, crazy up there and in his heart too. What self-preserving human fell in love with the thing they’d been warned about their whole life, and yet, thinking of Hinata, Ushijima could not connect what he’d been taught to fear with the mermaid itself. Hinata was sweet, wonderful, not at all conniving or dangerous. Hinata was... something very special. 

Wakatoshi spent those days following the event locked up in his lighthouse, tending to only that, until he was literally scraping meals together with any and every little thing he had left. He sighed wearily one morning as he ate his last little bit of fish and rice, and decided drearily that he’d need to go to town to get food again. He looked outside the window, thinking it befitting that it was so gloomy out. It wasn’t actually raining, but the sea had been raging the last few days, as if turmoiling with Wakatoshi through his mess of feelings.

He gathered his coat and bag and headed out after ensuring everything in the lighthouse was good to be without him for a moment; not that it was needed, he was just stalling for time. Being around other humans was slowly becoming more and more of a chore. Even just the thought of it turned his stomach. 

He grabbed his raincoat just in case the skies did decide to open, and he headed out. He kept his eyes straight ahead as he walked, not looking around him even when he reached his destination. The market was quiet today, probably due to the weather keeping most people inside. The air was damp and cold and it clung to Ushijima’s cheeks and hands. He trudged along the main street, visiting all of the shops he always did. No one spoke to him, but by the third stall, he did notice that they were _watching_ him. 

At the fifth stall, the silence was so startling that Ushijima looked up at the shopkeeper, his wife and son, the lady usually chatting away with the shop’s neighbor, but this time she sat alone and quiet. Three sets of eyes were trained on him, watching his every move like he was tainting their produce. 

He brought up everything he wanted finally and set it down on the small table where the shop keeper sat, the old man eyeing him with something close to disgust. When he pulled out his change purse, the man suddenly stood. 

“We don’t take yer kinda money ‘ere, boy.”

Ushijima had always had dull receptions, but nothing that was ever this rude or undeserved. He blinked wide at the shop keeper, then back at his veggies. “How do you wish me to... pay, then?” he asked slowly, eyes still on his carefully picked produce. 

“I’m sayin’, ya won’t be buyin’ from us ‘ere.”

This made Ushijima just stop and turn to the man with a dead expression, olive eyes going cool. “Why?” was all he said, trying very hard to bite back a lot of backwards things to say to these people. 

“Yeh was seen, boy,” said the shopkeeper like Wakatoshi was trying to be smart with him. The taller man just raised an eyebrow, telling the man to please elaborate. “With that merfolk. Yeh was seen moochin’ with the creature. Don’t even deny it!”

The woman was on her feet now, eyes wide and pointing. “I seen ya! Yer cursed, ain’tchya?!”

Ushijima’s eyes slipped to her and again he had to bite back a lot of things to say, but he found his words lacking to explain to these hillbilly people what he could barely theorize to himself. He wondered why he’d fallen in love with Hinata, but mostly why it should matter to people like this. Sure, they’d been over-steeped like tea leaves in superstition, but what was it to them if he was cursed and stolen away by a mermaid? He couldn’t think of anything to say, so he just stood there. 

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” he said as calmly as he could, staring into the woman’s eyes. She balked, and he took that chance to gather his vegetables again and lay down his coin to pay. He turned on his heel and walked out, calling over his shoulder, “Don’t worry, I’ll take my business elsewhere next time.” 

The further he walked, all of his vegetables still clutched in his arms, the angrier he got. Why did it matter to them what happened to him? Why did he think they deserved an answer? Why did he think he himself needed one that made more sense than “fell in love”? All of his life, he had perhaps been too strictly logical, but these feelings could not be explained like that. He felt what he felt, and for now, that felt realer than any fact that had been proven true to him. 

He walked home all the way with produce in hand and anger rising in his head. 

x

A ship sailed slowly by, and Wakatoshi watched it from where he sat on his tall cliff. Everything moved in slow motion out there in the big, wide sea, but Ushijima’s mind was racing a million miles a minute.

The more he thought about it, the more he wondered why he was still just sitting there, hesitating, but he found himself unable to move and take the next step. He’d never apologized for anything before. He’d never even admitted he was wrong, but now he knew very well that he was. But mostly, he’d never had to deal with _feelings_ before, and that was what was rooting him the most. 

Feelings. He frowned. No matter how many times his heart told him it was simple, his head told him the opposite again and again. 

As the sun began to dip lower, the sky beginning to fade to purple, Wakatoshi found his determination, and he pulled himself up on his feet. Hands clenched, he marched himself down the hill as the temperatures began to slowly drop. It would be even colder in the cove, but Wakatoshi was afraid to stop and grab a jacket now, lest all of his determination flutter away. His feet carried him on, and he refused to let his steps falter even a moment at this point. 

The road split before him, and he veered easily to the left. Rocks cracked open to a sandy beach and lapping waves, the sun now at the horizon, bathing everything in deep orange light. The sound of the sea was so familiar and soothing that Wakatoshi found his feet carrying him to the edge of the water, to a rock that sat dry above the level of the sea. He peered out over the surface of the water, dark underneath, seemingly lonely but probably teeming with life farther out. Just this little cove of water seemed deserted, and for a moment, Wakatoshi feared that he might never see Hinata again. With lonely eyes, he stared into the water, waiting with an aching hope he would never admit to a living soul. 

The sun slowly sank down, deep orange fading to dark purple, as the night began to eat up the sun’s rays, as smaller stars took its place, and Wakatoshi waited. Just when he felt it hopeless, he saw movement further out, a flick of a tail, millions of crystalline scales glittering just below the surface of dark waters. His heart soared, and he squatted down to await his beloved mermaid’s arrival, but the creature stayed illusively far away. Wakatoshi frowned, tapped his fingers against the rock, eyes straining to see. A fin would crest the water, a flash of something shiny moving. Wakatoshi scratched at the rock; it wasn’t so odd that Hinata wouldn’t approach him. After all, Wakatoshi had probably hurt him, and who knew what the mermaid had been thinking of since Wakatoshi left so abruptly. With his heart soaring in his chest, pain he wanted to apologize for, he rushed his feet into the icy water, not even feeling the biting cold with how much he needed to tell Hinata- 

“Hinata!” he called out into the silent night air, the waves the only thing breaking the quiet. It was lonely, and Wakatoshi wadded farther, fighting against the push of the water. “Hinata!”

His boots soaked through to his socks and his pants clung to his thick legs, but still he waded on, even as it became harder and harder to move. His teeth chattered but he trudged on, tears pricking his eyes and making it hard to see. “Hinata!” he begged. His beautiful, gorgeous Hinata; he’d done the gorgeous creature so dirty because of his own awkwardness. He surged forward into the water, diving down, hands grabbing wildly for the form that lurked beneath the surface. Hands grabbed his own and Wakatoshi begged his eyes to open, but all he could feel was the happiness that surged wildly in his heart. He was pulled deeper and he let himself get dragged under, smile spreading slowly. Just as his lungs began to ache softly, he snapped his eyes open. He expected to see orange hair, gorgeous jeweled eyes, a smile, but his heart froze. A creature unknown to him was sneering at him, a breath away, nothing but rows of sharp teeth and evil intentions, and Ushijima had only a single though: he’d forgotten there were other mermaids in the sea, and maybe Hinata was the only nice one. 

His mouth snapped open and all the air left escaped his lungs as he choked out a cry, and just like that, he was yanked deeper down into the black sea. All he could see was the evil glint to shadowed citron eyes, and all he could feel was true panic. Yellowed teeth grinned at him, stained from ages of feeding on weaker prey. Hinata’s smile was so perfect and bright, beautiful, but this was nothing like that. Before him was the same creature, but this one and Hinata were not the same at all. With a last conscious thought, Ushijima wished to see Hinata one last time, as his vision blacked out and he was dragged deeper under. 

x

How long had it been? Minutes? Seconds? Hours? Wakatoshi could not tell how long the inky blackness of nothingness clung to him; he was aware of nothing for a long time, unaware even that he was unaware. Cold hugged his limbs and sunk to his bones, but all he could think of was the warmth of a head on his lap, of lips on his, of Hinata in his arms again. 

As long as the blackness lasted, suddenly it was all wiped away as Wakatoshi snapped to, taking in a painful inhale of icy air. He snapped his head to the side and choked out rancid sea water, trying to pull his thoughts out of the chaos they had become. His ears popped and there was the soft wash of the waves onto the shore, and something else, something ethereally gorgeous. Wakatoshi lay stiff and frozen, trying to recall why he was soaked to the bone. His head throbbed, vision spotty. He couldn’t remember why he was outside; was this a bad dream? He slowly squeezed his fist, nails into his palm to ascertain it was real, even if he could barely feel his fingers, but he felt the pain of moving them. 

“-shi-ji-ma...” came a quiet, broken whimper. Ushijima’s eyes searched, unfocused, for the sound, but it was hard to locate with his cheek against the ground. Slowly, he turned his head up, blinking blearily at the dark sky above him, stars winking back at him. He uncurled his fist and wiggled all of his fingers. His lower half was still in the water, and he knew he had to pull himself out, but he couldn’t move, cold and stiff. The rocks dug into his back like needles, but he did not move. More crying wavered through the air, and Wakatoshi shut his eyes to listen. 

“Ushi, Jima,” someone warbled, a broken tone that tugged at Wakatoshi’s heart, and god, he would know those ethereal notes anywhere. Slowly, he craned his neck, trying to look over his chest back down to the water. Sitting on a submerged rock, looking like a vision from a fairy tale with his tail curled up on grey granite, sat Hinata, weeping. His hands covered his face and his shoulders quaked, slim, pale body trying to keep itself upright but it shook so badly. Hinata hadn’t seen Wakatoshi awaken yet; he was still mourning, and it broke Wakatoshi in several different ways. Slowly, he gathered his strength and he sat up, staring at his torn pants and one boot-less foot, trying to recall what had happened to him. Hinata, even though his sadness broke Wakatoshi’s heart, was so beautiful to behold that Wakatoshi didn’t speak for a while. He felt horrible, but the way Hinata crying over him made him feel in his soul kept him from calling out. Webbed fingers scrubbed over a pretty face, and Hinata glistened in the moonlight, scales shimmering under the water and skin seeming to glitter in the air. His voice, too, was so pretty, and Wakatoshi was speechless. 

Slowly, he pulled his feet out of the water, and Hinata froze, suddenly deathly silent, hands still over his face. There was a beat of silence after Wakatoshi had pulled himself completely out of the cold sea, and then Hinata’s head snapped up, eyes too wide for his face but so, so pretty. Neither spoke as they looked at each other, really looked. As Wakatoshi’s legs began to feel again, he leaned forward, slowly climbing to his knees. Hinata was too far away, and Wakatoshi had come to apologize. He crawled painfully over hard rocks, on his knees, slowly forward. His hand sank against the rock Hinata sat on and a voice stopped him there.

“Ushi, Jima,” Hinata whispered, so broken, so beautiful. Wakatoshi looked up at wet eyes, irises like two big jewels, and he swallowed roughly. How had he thought he deserved this creature? How dare he think he deserved these tears. He froze where he was, and he waited for Hinata to speak again. When he did, it was a chirped warble of a sound, a whole sentence probably, but Wakatoshi didn’t understand. Hinata stopped, and then Wakatoshi watched as tears broke free and dropped, big, round pearls dripping down and making a quiet backdrop of sound, and Hinata was rambling, really talking. Wakatoshi couldn’t understand a single word, but he was breathless, because it was _beautiful_. The tiniest smile pulled at Wakatoshi’s lips, and he let himself get lost in Hinata’s broken ramblings. When the sounds fell off and it was silent again, Ushijima looked up at his beautiful prince, and he smiled ever so softly. 

“Hinata, I’m sorry.”

Hinata wailed, pounding at his own chest. His hands moved and somehow Wakatoshi understood that Hinata had feared him to be dead. Well, it was easy to see now that Hinata had been the one to drag him to shore. Wakatoshi slowly began to see the wounds on Hinata’s fair skin, sharp blue blood leaking out like his skin was crying. Wakatoshi reached out and ran a finger over one small cut, touching gently. Hinata inhaled sharply and froze. 

“Hinata,” Wakatoshi whispered, his heart breaking again for this precious being who shouldn’t have ever concerned himself with a troublesome human. Hinata should have never needed to bear these wounds for him, and yet he had. “I’m so sorry, my... love...” Olive eyes snapped up and met yellowish orange. Hinata’s lips quaked but not sound was produced. Wakatoshi looked down again and slowly began wiping away the dripping blood, cleaning his precious mermaid. Hinata was silent, hands folded against his chest, cradling his heart. There were parts of Hinata’s tail where scales were torn clean off, which Wakatoshi could do nothing about, so he left those painful-looking wounds alone. Until Hinata’s smaller cuts had been wiped down, neither made a sound.

“I’m sorry I worried you, but you shouldn’t have...” Wakatoshi murmured as he slowly pulled away, knees going cold and stiff again, but Hinata was here with him, so he stayed rooted where he was. Hinata’s lips parted and he let forth the smallest sound, Wakatoshi’s eyes fluttering up to his. He pressed his lips together, so many things he wanted to say, but Hinata would not understand them, and neither could he understand Hinata. But it was enough; he could see it in Hinata’s eyes, in his face, his clenched hands. Slowly, Wakatoshi reached up and pulled those hands apart, pulled them to his chest where his heart was beating strongly. “I’m alive,” he told Hinata. Hinata’s cheeks flushed the softest pink, but he nodded like he understood. 

Wakatoshi next reached up and cupped one of his big hands against Hinata’s soft cheek, stroking at his pretty face. Yellow eyes flicked to his own, and he smiled again. “It’s thanks to you.” Wakatoshi could only remember now the fear he’d felt, thinking death was coming as he’d run out of air under the water, in the clutches of another mermaid. He didn’t know how Hinata had saved him, but he knew that’s what had happened. Hinata had dragged him back up to land and sat there for who knows how long, waiting for Ushijima to wake up, praying he would. Hinata, who was so precious, had refused to leave his side, worried sick. Wakatoshi softly stroked at his smooth skin, looked the other over slowly, memorizing every detail. He had missed this creature so much; he didn’t care what was said about him, he loved Hinata something fierce. He met Hinata’s eyes again, wondering how he could convey everything he felt. He rubbed a thumb over Hinata’s lips, a small cut reopening and smearing a bit of blue across pretty lips. Hinata murmured quietly, watching Wakatoshi too, unsure. 

“I’m sorry, Hinata, for just leaving like that before,” Wakatoshi said slowly. He rubbed over Hinata’s lips again, softly. “Can you tell me again... what you think of me?” Hinata blinked, not understanding, but that was okay for now. Ushijima would teach Hinata the words so that he would understand when Ushijima spoke to him. He pressed his free hand over the one Hinata had against his chest, and he sat up on his knees, rocks digging in painfully but none of that registered. He met Hinata’s lips with his own, all the things he felt translated into a heated kiss. There was a sweet taste and Ushijima licked at it, blue blood wiping away with a swipe of his tongue, and he felt that they were connected again. Hinata moaned out a whine against his lips and he sank heavy against Ushijima, going slack like all he’d wanted was this kiss. Wakatoshi clenched his hand over Hinata’s and slid back down to his butt, his other hand sliding to support Hinata at the base of his tail. Fingers flared out over velvety scales, and Ushijima swallowed the shiver it wrought out of the mermaid. He slowly sank backwards, Hinata following him down, until they laid half in the sand, Hinata’s tail between Ushijima’s legs in the water, swishing to and fro, faster and faster as the kiss grew deeper. Tongues licked out at each other, exploring teeth and mouths. Wakatoshi sighed heavily, heart racing, and Hinata melted against his chest. With two hands freed up, Wakatoshi explored the body laying atop him, marveled at how beautiful all of Hinata truly was. There was no doubt in his mind; he loved Hinata endlessly, would forever. He just had to let Hinata himself know, promise that he would stay, that he wouldn’t leave. He had to find a way for them to be together, to spend the night, to... be even more deeply connected. He pulled his knees up and locked his thighs around Hinata’s hips, pulling their bodies tightly together. Hinata keened into his mouth, something hot and hard pressed to his scales. Ushijima was hard again; he desired Hinata, after all. 

Slowly, they pulled away, Ushijima laying his head down on the beach and Hinata lifting his upper half with his hands on the human’s chest. They watched each other, blinking slow, silent. Words were not needed when their eyes told whole stories. Ushijima felt warm at the way Hinata watched him. He reached up and slowly stroked at a sharp cheekbone, smiling. He thought it was high time. “Hinata,” he called. 

“Ushi, Jima,” the other moaned softly back. 

“I,” the man began, pointing to himself. 

“Love,” rubbing at his beating heart where Hinata’s hand still lay. “You,” pulling Hinata’s hand to his lips. “I love you.”

Hinata was silent for a long time, trying to process the words he didn’t understand. He pressed his hand to Ushijima’s jaw, the man kissing his palm again. His other hand shifted to Ushijima’s pounding heart, to his chest. “I?” he warbled in question, head tilting. 

“I,” Ushijima repeated. He pointed at himself. “Ushijima.”

“You?” Hinata crooned, slow understanding coming. “Hinata?” he asked, and Wakatoshi nodded proudly. 

“Love...?” Hinata’s voice hitched and broke, tears coming again to his eyes as he clenched at the shirt drying on Wakatoshi’s chest, his heart threatening to pound out of his body. “Love,” he wavered. “Love Hinata?”

“Yes,” whispered Wakatoshi hoarsely. Hinata’s tail was swishing softly in the water below, his face glowing beautifully in the moonlight. He looked divine, on top of Wakatoshi like this.

“Hinata, I love you so much,” Wakatoshi breathed, at his own breaking point, overwhelmed. He waited a beat for the response to come. 

Suddenly, Hinata was wailing, sobbing, tears falling so fast that it felt like hard rain against Ushijima’s chest as the pearls fell, slipping into the water and rolling in the sand. 

“I love you,” Wakatoshi told him again, unable to keep from smiling now. “You’re gorgeous, Hinata.”

“Gorgeous,” sobbed Hinata, clutching at his own chest like he couldn’t breathe very well. He was trying to gasp at air and Ushijima realized very quickly that Hinata needed more air. He moved so fast it was dizzying, pulling Hinata up into his arms and running full-on into the sea, letting the other go until Hinata was submerged and he could breathe. Hinata hugged around Wakatoshi’s chest under the water as he sobbed, as Wakatoshi petted his hair. Slowly, the brunet sank down until just his head was above water, waiting for Hinata to come up again. The cold seemed to mean nothing in this moment. 

First a mess of orange curls and then those striking eyes broke the water’s surface, Hinata staring up at Wakatoshi quietly as he’d finally calmed down. Wakatoshi couldn’t help but smile as he reached below for Hinata’s hand, or his waist, something to hold. Hinata slid a hand across Wakatoshi’s chest, his heart still beating rapidly. He leaned over and kissed Hinata’s forehead. “I love you, Hinata. You’re gorgeous,” he said again. 

It didn’t matter that Hinata was a mermaid, something perhaps to be feared, something not at all like himself. It didn’t matter that there wasn’t a logical way for them to always be together. Hinata was not made for land and he was not made for the bitter cold sea. It didn’t matter for now that they couldn’t even communicate properly. He loved Hinata, for many reasons, some he couldn’t even explain to himself. Hinata was a wild existence that had torn into Wakatoshi’s life without even a sound of warning, and Wakatoshi had felt him invade every part of his being. From the very first moment, there had never been a chance for Wakatoshi to fight these feelings. It was inevitable. It was fate. 

Slowly, Hinata bobbed his whole head up over the water, pulling himself cautiously and slowly closer to Wakatoshi, but the man was eager to hold him, and soon Hinata rushed into his arms, pressing against his chest again, purring powerfully. Hinata’s eyes were watching Ushijima, maybe calculating if...

“Ushijima, you... gorgeous,” he whispered carefully, clinging to Wakatoshi in case he tried to run again, but Wakatoshi just smiled this time, rooted. The cold barely even touched him now that Hinata was in his arms. He’d been waiting for Hinata to tell him again, after all. How could he say that so the other would understand? 

“Ushijima,” Hinata said, more confident now, surging forward. “I love you.”

Wakatoshi had never thought those words would hit him so hard. Like a train going full speed, Ushijima was wrecked by the impact. His heart stuttered in his chest and he stared at Hinata like he’d gone stupid from the confession. Hinata blinked at him, smiled, but Wakatoshi couldn’t even think enough to smile back. Hinata loved him, huh. The first full sentence Hinata had spoken and it was this. Hinata knew what the words meant. And he was saying them back to Ushijima, because he meant them. 

“I love you, Ushijima. You... are gorgeous.”

Suddenly something wet trailed down Wakatoshi’s cheeks, and he wondered if some sea water had splashed up onto his cheeks, but Hinata wiped at his face and he realized with a start that he was crying. The mermaid licked at his fingers, eyes going wide, and then he lunged forward, lips pressing to Wakatoshi’s cheeks, kissing, licking, tasting. He warbled out a broken version of Wakatoshi’s name, breath coming hot and fast again. Wakatoshi pulled Hinata tightly to his body, soaking in the feeling that Hinata was giving him. He was so in love, with Hinata, his body, even just the idea of him. Nothing else mattered. 

“Hinata, I love you so much,” Wakatoshi gasped as Hinata’s tail flicked powerfully in the water, pressing his hips to Wakatoshi’s. He ached painfully for Hinata, but he couldn’t break this sweet moment. He didn’t know how to tell Hinata that he wanted to have sex, to claim all of him. He didn’t even know what parts Hinata would have, or where they would be. Maybe mermaids couldn’t have sex at all. Well, an underwater blow job would be really good too- Wakatoshi shook his head violently, half of him feeling like he was dirtying the pure Hinata, the other half screaming in need. Ushijima was throbbing, and if he didn’t at least get a hand on his erection soon, he might burst. 

Hinata shifted against him, feeling Wakatoshi and sensing his discomfort, and like a man with no qualms or need to be embarrassed, Hinata pressed a hand against Wakatoshi, sliding it down until he reached the prize. He keened deeply, cheeks turning darker as his hand curled around the hardness in Ushijima’s pants, the human choking out a cry. It was half relief, half burning embarrassment. Hinata turned wet eyes up to Wakatoshi before him and slowly, slowly, he smiled, a beautiful sight to behold. It bloomed until even his eyes were shining, and Ushijima swallowed roughly. “Hinata,” he whispered, wondering what he should say. 

There seemed to be no need for words, though, as Hinata kicked his tail and rushed up into a kiss. Wakatoshi caught him there and held him as he in turn deepened the kiss, tongues curling together, hot breath huffing out over wet lips. Hinata was still just palming at Wakatoshi, maybe not sure what one was supposed to do with a hard cock, or unable to figure out how pants worked. Ushijima groaned roughly at a particularly harsh pull, and he grabbed Hinata’s hand away for a moment, lavishing in the smaller male’s whine. He clung to Hinata as he unzipped and opened his pants with one hand, and then he grabbed Hinata’s hand again and slipped it inside his underwear alongside his own. He shivered at the feel of that small hand on his cock, at the cold sea clinging to him. He was hot and icy cold at the same time. He could barely wait. Hinata gasped high and loud and began enthusiastically feeling the human up. He was making noises that were devilish, and Wakatoshi could only groan and grumble awkwardly. 

Suddenly, Hinata was pushing Wakatoshi back, surging his tail powerfully through the water as he spread a hand on Wakatoshi’s chest and kissed him fervently. Wakatoshi stumbled back, tripped and landed slowly on his butt thanks to the water. He was nearly chin-deep now, but thankfully with enough room to avoid waves of salty water in his face. One second Hinata was grinning, and the next he was diving underwater, two hands on Ushijima now. Ushijima felt more than heard Hinata chirp under the water, slim hands feeling him up in awe. Wakatoshi jerked his head back and shut his eyes, trying to remember how to breathe as Hinata teased him. Slowly, a messy head of orange curls and crystal eyes peeked back up over the water, watching Wakatoshi, eyes trained on his exposed neck. Lips molded to his skin and Wakatoshi shivered audibly, a hand reaching to hold Hinata’s waist and pull him closer. When sharp teeth scraped over his skin, he moaned loud and shaky. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, clutching at Hinata’s waist. A giggle bubbled up against his neck, and Hinata wiggled closer, lips and tongue exploring Wakatoshi’s skin. Wakatoshi was sinking further back into the water, and soon he’d be submerged. He called Hinata’s name, but the other was too busy with the tasty morsel he’d discovered. Wakatoshi dug his heels in to the rocky bottom and pushed the two of them closer to shore again. Hinata giggled as water rushed over them, and Wakatoshi was very pleased with the sight that came into view of Hinata’s body curled up against his own, tail flicking playfully at water between his legs. Hinata didn’t complain as they came to a stop where the water just barely covered Hinata’s chest. It was clear enough, too, to see with the glow off of the mermaid’s scales. Wakatoshi leaned back on an elbow and let his other hand explore Hinata’s curved back. Teeth set softly to his neck again and he reveled in the purr Hinata released against his throat. 

Slowly, his hand slipped around Hinata’s waist, and without any sort of knowledge at all, he began fingering over scales, feeling for anything that might have to do with sex-having. Hinata shivered and crooned at the touches, but Wakatoshi became disheartened when he felt nothing no matter how much he searched. He laid back further and let Hinata writhe against him. Hinata stopped suddenly, Wakatoshi having gone very quiet, and he sat up slowly, watching the man with fiery eyes. Olive eyes watched him in return, watched him splay his pretty fingers over his chest and preen at Wakatoshi, lashes fluttering. Slowly Wakatoshi sat up again, noting Hinata’s coy smile. A hand cupped his cheek and caressed his face, drawing his line of sight down to Hinata’s lap, where his other hand had slipped down, rubbing just at the start of his tail, where creamy skin met colorful fin. Wakatoshi watched with widening eyes as the scales seemed to split apart, a slit of more creamy skin revealed in the midst of pretty scales. It looked first like a scar, and then more and more like what Wakatoshi had imagined. Something pearlescent slicked out of the new entrance, and Wakatoshi gasped mindlessly, in awe. His cheeks flushed red as Hinata leaned forward and purred in his ear, the sound shooting straight to his heart and groin. His hand on Hinata’s waist tightened, and his other came to rest on Hinata’s lap, fingering cautiously at scales. He looked up into those gorgeous jeweled eyes, waited for permission to be given. Hinata keened softly, nudging at Ushijima’s cheek, kissing his skin. It was all the permission Wakatoshi needed, fingers slipping forward over velvety scales, until he touched the outer part of the new slit that had opened up. He fingered it gently, around and around the outside, Hinata slowly melting against his chest with puffs of hot air and breathless little moans that sounded so delicious. Wakatoshi lifted his fingers back up to his lips in hopes of tasting Hinata, but the salt water had washed it away already. Still, the heat of Hinata’s gaze on him as he did it was enough. His cock throbbed and rubbed against Hinata’s hip, aching. Hinata set a hand to press against the skin just above it, and Ushijima sighed in soft relief, the touch enough for now as he lowered his fingers again. 

The slit opened so easily with the lightest pressure, more slick pulsing out as Ushijima slowly pressed his fingers closer to the center. He watched with wide eyes as slowly his finger entered, ears going red as Hinata gave a high, melodic call. He couldn’t even describe the sensation inside, finger slowly slipping deeper and deeper, like Hinata would never end. While Hinata’s scales were like velvet, inside him was like something softer, something warmer, reminiscent of the inside of his mouth. Wet flesh pulsed around Wakatoshi’s finger, molding to it, sucking him in. He let out a rough groan, Hinata so tight at times that he couldn’t even move his finger, but then he would release and Wakatoshi could crook his finger or rub at the mermaid’s insides. The sounds Hinata made then were divine, and Wakatoshi was so drunk on everything about this. He teased Hinata, worked him open, two fingers in and massaging Hinata where he made the loudest noises. At the upper side of the entrance inside, something hard was growing, pushing back at Ushijima’s fingers, and he was so desperate to see what it was. Hinata was crying again, his voice still high and needy, as he clung to the man. Wakatoshi spread his fingers and coaxed the hardness out, eyes on Hinata’s wet entrance. He was leaking so much now that the water was beginning to shimmer. Wakatoshi pushed his fingers along the bottom side of Hinata’s opening, and with the tips of his fingers, he rubbed and urged the hardness to slip into sight. Hinata let out a wanton cry as a round head slipped out of his entrance, bigger than Wakatoshi could have imagined, and he watched as it emerged slowly more and more, the head connected to a thick shaft. His fingers had gone still now in awe; this was Hinata’s cock, throbbing out of that silky soft entrance, and Wakatoshi realized that Hinata had the best of both worlds in his lap, and he was aching to experience them all. He looked up at Hinata; he’d hardly ever considered having sex that much before, but suddenly, looking at this magical creature, he wanted to try so many things. Nothing else mattered; just his beautiful mermaid and the love they shared between them. Hinata watched him with wet eyes, and Ushijima wished he knew the way to tell Hinata how he was feeling. Instead, he slowly tilted his head to kiss the creature, his wet fingers slipping now around Hinata’s hot length that was shamefully bigger than his own. As beautiful as Hinata had always been, he looked gorgeous with his throbbing cock and weeping entrance, with his wet eyes and hungry lips against Wakatoshi’s. He licked along sharp teeth, desperate to tell Hinata everything, but words felt so useless. He pulled back for a breath and whispered, brokenly, “Hinata, you’re so gorgeous.”

The mermaid went very, very quiet, and Ushijima jerked back, thinking he’d done something wrong. Hinata was staring at his lap, at Ushijima’s hand around his cock, and his whole face was bright red. He was crying again too, clinging to Wakatoshi’s arms. Tearfully, he looked up, face filled with too many emotions. “Gorgeous?” he asked so quietly. “Hinata?” His hands shivered on Wakatoshi’s shoulders and for a moment, he looked very unsure of himself. Wakatoshi curled his fingers around his length and pumped it slow, all the way up to the top, and back down to the sopping base, and he shivered too. 

“Yes,” he moaned, nodding. “Yes, my love. You are gorgeous.” He punctuated his words with another deep, slow kiss, kissing Hinata until he was melty again, like putty in Wakatoshi’s arm. 

“I want to taste you, Hinata,” Wakatoshi husked, and he pulled back to see Hinata’s eyes wide, watching him but not afraid. He trusted Wakatoshi, his tiny smile said. Wakatoshi wrapped two arms around his back and slowly turned them over, laying Hinata back into the sea, letting him bloom in the water like a pretty flower. He ran his hands down Hinata’s sides and then curled one arm around his hips, eyes watching Hinata as he slowly lowered his own upper body down. 

Hinata gasped and Wakatoshi looked down now as his cheek rubbed against something hot and stiff. Hinata was truly large, very human in appearance, aside from the sharper features of the head, and the size. Wakatoshi nuzzled against it, sliding down because his first mission was to taste what he hadn’t been able to before. With Hinata’s hips lifted just above the water, his slick spilling slowly over his scales, Wakatoshi bent down and licked his tongue flat against the bottom half of Hinata’s entrance. It was salty, but not unpleasantly like the saltwater around them was. It was a little bit sweet, like a piece of salted caramel, thick and a little creamy too. Wakatoshi pulled his tongue into his mouth and savored the taste for a silent moment, Hinata shaking with need in his arm. He opened his eyes again and looked at that magnificent cock, and then he powerfully dipped his tongue inside Hinata’s opening. The mermaid’s cry resounded against the cliffs surrounding them, so beautiful and broken that Wakatoshi’s cock jumped at the sound of it, leaking a little bit of pre-cum into the sea. Hinata was so velvety soft and tasty against his tongue, Wakatoshi curling it to dig out the taste, the slick. He suctioned his lips to the opening, reveling in how much gushed out and how wonderful Hinata sounded. His tail curled around Wakatoshi’s back and he writhed in his arms, hands holding on to Wakatoshi like he might melt away if he didn’t. Something was dripping onto Wakatoshi’s nose and he slowly looked up to see the beads of pearlescent fluid dropping down Hinata’s shaft. This was Hinata’s pre-cum, and Wakatoshi shifted his focus, his big tongue licking out of his entrance and up Hinata’s thick cock. A gasp sounded, going higher the higher up Wakatoshi licked, until it broke messily when the man closed his lips around the weeping head. Hinata went completely slack, calling Wakatoshi’s name weakly. His hands slipped away from Wakatoshi’s arm, and he was completely at his lover’s mercy. Wakatoshi couldn’t help but grin, suckling a little meanly at Hinata’s head. He slowly worked his mouth down the monster as far as he could, which wasn’t very far, but it was enough for Hinata to break, cumming hard and hot into Wakatoshi’s mouth. He swallowed as best as he could, but it was a lot. When he pulled off, Hinata was still cumming, pretty fluid dripping down his shaft. Wakatoshi swallowed and licked more up, in love with the taste of Hinata. He cleaned him off diligently, and when he was done, he gathered Hinata back into his arms, examining his lips, wondering if Hinata would mind a kiss now. Slowly, orange eyes cracked open, and Hinata gave a weak little sigh of pleasure. His hands came up and combed into Wakatoshi’s hair, eyes roaming the man’s face as he softly smiled. 

“Ushijima,” he whispered, “Love you, gorgeous.”

Wakatoshi’s whole face split into a very rare, wide smile, feeling very foolish but not caring a bit. He loved this creature in his arms so very, very much. With his limited vocabulary, how did he know just what to say every time? 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked breathlessly, and Hinata nodded. 

“Kiss,” he whispered, his fingers flirting over Wakatoshi’s lips. Wakatoshi kissed at his fingertips. 

“Yes, a kiss.”

Hinata’s face bloomed into a gorgeous smile and he nodded more enthusiastically. “Kiss Hinata,” he crooned, pulling Wakatoshi’s face to his own. Oh, he was so gorgeous. He was so obviously not human, and yet Wakatoshi had never been this attracted to a human. In fact, he’d found very few humans to be considered good-looking, but Hinata... oh, Hinata was on a whole different level. He was somehow perfect, wonderful. Their lips met and Wakatoshi closed his eyes, their bodies molding together until it was hard to tell where human ended and mermaid began. He pulled Hinata back up and around again, laying him where Wakatoshi had laid before, his head cushioned on a smooth rock. Wakatoshi wished he could provide something more comfortable for his beauty, but it was hard to make the sea accommodate them. Maybe if he could be underwater, they could find a bed of seaweed, but that was not realistic. Wakatoshi knew this relationship would be hard, but it still hurt in the moments where he realized that a lot of their time would be spent “making do”. He pulled away from Hinata and hovered over him, hand slipping down to slowly caress his body. Hinata watched him with those beautiful eyes, looking perfectly comfortable if only for the fact that he was in Wakatoshi’s arms. Was it enough? Wakatoshi ducked his head down to the mermaid’s shoulder to hide his frown. Slim fingers brushed at his hair, petting his head, and Wakatoshi had to believe that this was as good for Hinata as it was for him. And it was good, very good. It was better than he could have ever dreamed it to be. Until this very moment, he maybe hadn’t believed they’d ever get this far, and he was so grateful. Hinata was perfect, delicious, and oh so willing. Wakatoshi rubbed at his own aching cock, head lifting up again to look at Hinata. 

“Hinata,” he whispered, and Hinata crooned back his name, voice so pretty. Every word he said sounded like a song. Wakatoshi kissed the corner of his lips, loving the smile it tugged up on Hinata’s face. His eyes glimmered in the moonlight, skin shimmering softly. “Hinata, can I make you all mine?” 

Big eyes watched him, Hinata silent. He waited patiently for Ushijima to make the words understandable to him. Wakatoshi pressed his cock down and ground it over Hinata’s wet opening, over his hard, hot cock. The mermaid shivered, understanding slowly dawning. “Hinata, I want to have sex with you and make you mine.”

A hand slipped down between them and Hinata closed his hand around Wakatoshi’s cock. He rubbed at it, feeling it. His pretty lashes fluttered and he licked at his lips. 

“Ushijima...” he whispered. His eyes flicked up and he murmured, “Mine?”

“Yes,” gasped the man, that look Hinata was giving him going straight to his dick. “I want that.” He wanted more than anything to be Hinata’s. 

“Yes,” crooned Hinata slowly as he tilted his head, lifting up to meet Wakatoshi’s lips with his own. “Mine,” he keened in a sexy, low voice that made Wakatoshi weak. The man raised his hips, but Hinata kept his hold on his cock. He looked into Wakatoshi’s eyes, smiling softly, coyly. 

Slowly, slowly, Hinata guided Wakatoshi to his entrance. When the tip of his cock kissed Hinata’s opening, he gasped high and strung out, and it didn’t stop there. Heat and velvety softness began to swallow Wakatoshi whole, Hinata guiding him deeper and deeper until Wakatoshi was flush against the man, a cock throbbing between their bellies, and Wakatoshi realized they were absolutely connected. He went very stiff and still, eyes going wet as he looked down at his pride and joy, at this creature that was somehow so sweet and so willing to be his alone. He swallowed roughly, speechless, mouth working over words he didn’t have. A hand cupped his cheek and Hinata smiled sweetly. 

“I love you,” whispered Hinata cheekily, so cute. Then he purred and churned out a sexy, “Mine.” Wakatoshi fell apart. 

He braced his hands and his knees, grabbed around Hinata’s waist with his left arm and there was no more stopping him now. In and out, in and out, long powerful strokes; he fucked into Hinata’s wet entrance with reckless abandon. He could barely breathe for how fast he was moving, and yet he refused to slow down. Hinata tossed his head back and moaned beautifully, sang for Ushijima, his throat laid bare. Wakatoshi dove forward and locked his lips around pale skin. This time he would leave his marks on his beloved, marks to match the ones on his own neck. Hinata’s arms wrapped around his back and nails dug blissfully into his skin. Hinata was pure perfection, inside and out. The more Wakatoshi fucked him, the wetter he got, the louder he became. Wakatoshi was curling his toes to hold on, never wanting this to end, and Hinata was singing now, whole songs with words that meant nothing to Wakatoshi and yet absolutely everything. He suckled at Hinata’s neck, reveling in the taste of slightly sweaty skin, the feel of Hinata’s Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. 

“Ushi- Jima~!” Hinata cried just before his body convulsed through a second orgasm, and as he tightened and pulsed around Wakatoshi, there was no way the man could hold back any longer. With a grunted cry, he came inside Hinata, his spill mixing with Hinata’s slick, and he prayed that he would always be able to feel this close to this miracle, to the love of his whole entire life. Hinata hugged Wakatoshi to him; he accepted his weight, gills flaring open in the water as he breathed and sighed out in elated relief. 

“There’s so many things I want to tell you, Hinata. So many words I want you to understand. And I want to understand your words as well. I want to tell you that I adore you, that you feel amazing... so many... things...” Wakatoshi shut his eyes slowly, thinking he’d never cared as much for words as he did now. It was frustrating, but Hinata was so sweet and patient with him. Kisses lighted his hair and sweet little mumbles coasted over his ears. 

Wakatoshi slowly sat up and cupped Hinata’s face. “Mine,” he whispered as he rubbed his thumb over sharp cheekbones, over pretty skin. Hinata shut his eyes and smiled big and proud. 

“Mine,” he crooned back. Wakatoshi’s heart flipped in his chest. 

It would take a few months still for them to learn enough to hold basic conversations, and then about a year until they fully understood each other, but since that first day, their hearts had known each other enough to know that they were both deeply in love, that they were meant for each other, that they would do anything, anything at all to be together forever. 

THE END


End file.
